


Lady Cutthroat

by like-waves-on-the-beach (alliecameron)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-09 00:12:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11657595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alliecameron/pseuds/like-waves-on-the-beach
Summary: CS AU. FBI Special Agent Killian Jones is on the trail of his runaway star witness. To get his man he needs to call in a favor from a notorious criminal. Will he be able to convince her to help him out?





	Lady Cutthroat

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little something I’ve had lurking in my hard drive. It’s my second attempt at a one-shot, which turned out to be pretty long. Will also be posted to FFN and Tumblr.
> 
> Huge thanks to the lovely, marvelous, @ilovemesomekillianjones for her fabulous skills in whipping this into shape for me, and for all her encouragement and support during the last couple of months (which have been complete shit for me).

Lady Cutthroat

 

Agent Nolan was a smart man, most of the time. Not calling in sick today was one of his larger oversights of late. “We got the intel you asked for,” David said wincing. _Why do I have to be the one to give it to him?_ David thought stoically. Him being Agent Killian Jones, one-time MI5 operative, now acting Special Agent in Charge for the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s Boston office, and also David’s partner.

Agent Nolan was a tall man and had a face that called to the ladies, _charming_ Killian liked to say. His blond hair was neatly trimmed, his eyes were a light shade of blue, and his smile was friendly and inviting. Most people took one look at Nolan and words like _boy scout_ and _trustworthy_ came to mind.

Life was good for David, his one problem was his partner, Agent Jones. About the same height and build, Killian’s dark hair and bright blue eyes worked well for him, his stubble and the light scar on his right cheek added a sense of danger to his overall look. Since their boss had been on a leave of absence for medical reasons, Killian had been put in charge of their division, thus saddling him to a desk job. His misery was shared by all those around him, especially since he made sure to share it with them through ill humor and a shortened temper.

There was only one thing that could make Killian’s desk job any worse, and that was a man. Will Scarlet, to be more specific, was that man, he was a festering boil on Killian Jones’s professional life.

“Jones, State’s Attorney, line three,” David said, dropping the folder containing the intel Killian had ordered, and making a hasty retreat from Killian’s office.

United State’s Attorney Robin Locksley, once Killian’s college roommate, was currently the bane of his existence. He sighed deeply before picking up the phone, “Locksley?”

“Tell me it’s not true.”

Killian ran his hand over his stubble. “Okay, it’s not true.” Hearing Robin’s sigh of relief, he sniffed. “Of course, if you tell me what’s not supposed to be true, I can better confirm or deny.”

“The weasel. Tell me you didn’t lose that…”

“Will’s gone. He walked from protective custody.”

Killian put the phone down and went to get more coffee while Robin expressed his thoughts on the situation in four letter words, and other colorful expletives. Very informative. That was Robin Locksley.

Killian came back after taking a long drink from his coffee, letting the soothing rush of caffeine calm him. Yeah, he was so calm. “Locksley-” Killian waved off an interruption at his door. “Robin! Aye, I can hear you clearly. I found him again. My people picked up his trail.”

“Count yourself lucky, Killian. Friendship or not…”

“Don’t bloody threaten me, mate. If you need a patsy, I suggest you contact Regina Mills, Special Agent for the U.S. Internal Revenue Service. Remember her?” Killian paused.

Killian didn’t expect an answer since his question was rhetorical. Of course Robin remembered Regina, the two had been having a clandestine affair for the past four years. Everyone knew except Robin’s wife. She was the perfect trophy wife for a man with political aspirations. Perky. Connected. Pretty. Oblivious. Brainless.

Robin was silent for a moment. “What does Regina have to do with this?”

“She took over the case. Her people were in charge of keeping Will under wraps and safe until he could testify. That was the deal. She felt I had a ‘conflict of interest’ in the case and relieved me and my department after we apprehended him.”

Robin seemed to be mulling it over. “Just find him! I don’t care how many rocks you’ve got to turn over, how many resources you have to use, or the deals you have to make! Get him back. Trial is in two weeks, no more continuations! This is going to be called a delay tactic, and I won’t have a mistrial. I want my damn witness.”

“Whatever it takes?” Killian asked quietly.

“Whatever.”

Killian breathed in deeply. _Great, just great_. The potential for disaster was increasing exponentially. “Give my regards to-” Killian winced at the slam of the receiver on the other end of the phone, “Bambi and the kids,” he finished into the hollow dial tone, then hung up. _Bloody Hell._

~*~

“David, tell me some good news.”

“That shirt really makes your eyes pop,” David grinned widely.

“About the case, Dave,” Killian said humorlessly.

_Okay, that might take some thought._ David concentrated on all he knew, separating the good from the bad. _Nope. Not gonna work._ It was all bad.

“Well… Um…” David scratched his brow. “We know where he is, or specifically, we know where he is going to be in about three days, and where he’s been.”

“How long is he going to be wherever he will be?”

“If I’m right, four days. I suspect the reason he took off was for an event. My sources tell me that Will Scarlett has been hitting up all the favors owed to him, in the form of money. I reckon he has to have a purpose for that money, something other than a flight opportunity.”

Killian sat down putting his feet up on the desk. “Will is a chronic gambler. Nothing is more important than a game.”

“Bingo!”

“He’s putting together open scratch for a big game? He must need opening roll of some major numbers. How many goulash joints you track him to?”

“Half a dozen. He was hitting the illegal numbers hard. We’re looking at an opening with at least a quarter large.”

Killian rubbed his face. Will Scarlett with quarter of a million dollars on hand predicted nothing but disaster. “How many possibilities?”

David blew out hard. “Crocodile Island is sponsoring a huge Hold ‘Em tourney. Four days. Best of the best, as illegal as it gets, and outside our jurisdictional waters. Numbers are climbing as the entrances are tallied. Word is Will is a contender for the take all pot.”

“That’s Gold’s spot,” Killian said, sitting a little straighter.

“Invite only, Killian.”

“Shit!” Killian sat back. “What’re the chances our little bird will come flying off the island in a week? We could sweep him then.”

“No good. Word is that Humbert knows his pigeon has flown the protective coop, and he’s sent out a gun. They’ll be targeting him on Croc and off. Either way, he’s a dead man.”

“And dead men don’t talk,” Killian muttered rubbing his eyes. _Great._ Will got nabbed for illegal gaming, and turned state’s evidence against a larger fish, Graham Humbert. Now the idiot is on the lam for another illegal poker game. He had to get Will back in protective custody, and fast. Not just for professional reasons, but for some very personal ones as well. Well, fuck a duck, he should’ve called in sick.

“Killian,” David didn’t want to say it, but there was no other option. “We’re going to need an invite to get in.”

Shutting his eyes, Killian shook his head. Of course they would. They had no jurisdiction, no reason to be let in. Where there was smoke, there sure as hell tended to be fire. Story of his life, another day in the tinderbox.

She was their invite to Crocodile Island. Lady Cutthroat. Lady Hellfire. She was known by both names, but he knew she preferred the first. A merciless creature in the game of poker, she had no tell, a preternatural ability to read the table, and turn a hand. She had been most wanted on the FBI’s list of illegal gamblers until three years ago, when as far as the underworld of gambling knew, Lady Cutthroat retired.

Lady Cutthroat, unbeknownst to the world at large had cut a deal, a promise to stop gambling for a sort of double or nothing probation. Pursued ruthlessly by a young, upcoming agent over a six year game of cat and mouse, the gambling lady had finally been brought in by Killian Jones. So at twenty-eight, she was retired and living out her life in relative peace and quiet.

~*~

Las Vegas, a destination sought by millions each year. A place that could make or break dreams of a lifetime, all determined in the turn of a predisposed card.

She tapped the table calmly, seated in the plush chair at a table in the high stakes gaming room of the Excalibur Casino. Killian stood over her shoulder, watching the dealer at the button and the two other players. The first folded to the pressure, but the other nodded, accepting the tap. All his chips already in.

Without emotion, Lady Cutthroat turned to a flop, nut straight. The man was out. Feeling his presence, she looked up and groaned. Pushing her stake, she requested the dealer rack her out minus the rake. Grabbing her take and her drink, straight whiskey, she pushed past Killian, acting as if he didn’t exist.

“Emma.”

“Nope. I don’t see you!” Emma hissed, trying not to call attention to the situation.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Talk to my lawyers!” Emma tossed back her drink and gave Killian an evil stare. “I’m not doing anything illegal! This is a legit gaming house! I can be here.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. Do they know who you are?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Guess you’re gonna tell them? Filthy G-Man! I swear-”

“Ah, ah!” Killian held up a finger. “What’s got you so riled up?”

“You!” Emma huffed. “How did you find me?”

Killian laughed. “I always know where you are, Swan. You should know that by now.”

Emma huffed again, glaring as she turned to take off

Reaching out to grab her wrist gently, he stopped her from leaving. “Look, can we talk? Just talk?”

Emma refused to look at him.

“Why? Why are you so pissed at me? You’re still gambling, and making more money than I do at my job. What’s wrong?”

Emma ripped her arm from him, shoving him away from her. “I have to pay taxes!”

Her tone was so horrified, Killian couldn’t help but laugh. His laughter was abruptly cut off when she stomped on his foot as hard as she could.

_Lady Cutthroat_ had earned her name by the age of fourteen. She had followed her deadbeat father around from one illegal game to another, literally her entire life after her mother died when she was four. At fourteen she got her first game stake, and the rest was legend.

Her love of shoes was notorious, and the older and more mature she became, the more note-worthy her shoes. The pair she donned tonight had a nice five-inch spiked steel heel. And that heel was about to be lodged in Killian’s foot. Scurrying off, Killian quickly followed, limping on his one foot. Things changed, but not Emma Swan.

“Look-”

“Busy!”

“Swan, I…”

Emma parried to the right ignoring him, and with a quick dodge, made an elevator on its way up. She waved innocently as the doors shut. Smiling at a small child with his mother, she gave her head a shake. Time to put that nasty man out of her head.

He was waiting at her suite door. Breathing hard and looking more than a little irritated. Good. Aerobic exercise was a cornerstone for good sound cardiac health.

“What part of me being mad at you doesn’t compute?” Emma asked with hard eyes.

Killian shrugged, a grin sliding onto his face. “You’re always mad at me for something.”

Emma’s eyebrow went up. “How about being mad at you for arresting me?”

“Those charges were dropped and sealed. The deal still stands.”

“Uh huh. Go away!” Emma opened the door and walked into the large space of her suite. “We have a deal. I play nice. _Legal_. You don’t harass. Remember?”

Killian ran his hands through his hair, making the strands stick out, his irritation evident in the lines on his face. “I’m not harassing you!”

Emma made a face of disbelief. “Really? So what is this? A mating dance?”

_Damn her._ “I need your help.”

“Okay,” Emma dug in her bag. “He charges about three-fifty an hour. That’s in hundreds. But, I promise, he is the best psychologist around, he comes highly recommended.”

“Not that kind of help.” Killian paced the room. “I need your professional help.”

“I know this is Vegas, babe…  but I don’t pull tricks. For your sexual deficiencies… see the man on the card.”

“Emma! I don’t have any sexual…” Killian stopped, closing his eyes. The amusement around her mouth was apparent, and the twinkle in her eye told him she’d done it again. He was so easy. She always could push all of his buttons so easily. “Gambling. I need an invite to a high stakes poker game, this weekend, starting Thursday. It’s a quarter large to get in the game… invite only.”

“Crocodile Island?” Emma asked in disbelief. “You want me to get you… on Crocodile Island? Gold’s hold? Are you crazy?” Emma shook her head and made her way towards the wet bar. This damn man had been slowly driving her to drink for years. _Damn him_.

Killian’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you know?”

“About Crocodile Island?”

Killian nodded.

Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m in forced retirement, not dead!”

“Can you get an invite?”

“In a heartbeat. I’m not the problem, you are.” Emma tossed back her whiskey.

“You’re drinking too much.”

“File that under not your concern.”

“I beg to differ,” Killian sighed. She was such a damn hedgehog at times. Prickly. “I need you thinking. Sober. Doing what you do best.”

“Killian,” Emma threw herself down on the sofa kicking off her shoes, somehow making her seem so much more vulnerable.

Emma Swan vulnerable, now there was a laughable thought.

She came from a family of grifters, con artists, gamblers, and players. She and Will Scarlett shared a common blood fever. Always looking for a quick fix, games of chance and danger was her narcotic. He’d pinned her wings, but he couldn’t stifle her nature. It had been a fight between them ever since. “I can’t break the code. You know that. A snitch or blind loses credibility fast. Jon Swan would spit if his daughter took Feds to a party.”

“Crocodile is outside jurisdiction. You know that. Illegal, yes. Touchable, no. I’m not going to spoil the party. I’ve got a runner. I need to bring him in before those gunners take him out. Dead men don’t walk, and they sure as hell don’t testify.”

Emma sighed. “Who we talking about?”

“Will.”

Emma moaned and buried her head in her hands. “Will Scarlett?! He’s elite! That means he’s in till the final days. Gold tourney, you lose, you walk. I’d have to play for real, all the way. No dubbing. You realize that?”

“Yes. Will is good. You’re better.”

Emma snorted. “You bet your ass, I am,” Emma sniffed. Clearing her throat she moved to stand next to him, close. “This sounds like a gray line, G-Man. How close you walking, Gee?”

“Close. I can’t lose this one. Can…” Killian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Whatever it takes_ , he heard Robin’s words echo in his mind. Totally against the rules. He was asking for a favor, but it couldn’t be helped. “Will you help me?”

“Why should I?”

Killian shrugged. “For your government?”

Emma rolled her eyes and looked at her nail job in interest. “I pay taxes. Give me a real reason.”

“For me.”

Emma searched his face. This meant something to him. Her eyes narrowed, and she moved in closer, her mouth almost touching his. “What’s in it for me?”

“Dammit! Can’t you-” Killian stopped. No, she couldn’t. That would be her stepping over a line. Carefully constructed lines. Them and Us. Gamblers versus Feds. She’d crossed that line once and her entire world came crashing down around her. She walked close at times, but there were rules. “I can give you things,” he continued, “but since you asked, I already know what you want. Why don’t you tell me?”

Emma ran her hand up his front, her perfectly polished nail flicking at a button on his shirt. Licking her lips, she looked up at him and slowly smiled. “Immunity. My record gone. Parole agreement. Gone. You cover the two-fifty large, and I keep all I make.”

Killian removed her hand, and chuckled lowly. He knew her so well, he could’ve written that request. “That’s a lot.”

“Those are my terms, non-negotiable. You came to me. If it’s not acceptable. Walk.” Emma pointed to the door.

“How long will it take you to get an invite?”

“Tonight after hours there’s a grifter’s game. Backroom. High stakes. I could make that. I’d have an invite first thing in the morning. Early.”

“Can you get both David and me in?”

“Sure,” Emma licked her lips. “I’ll tell them you’re my husband, and David’s my security. Not a big deal.” Emma laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Or maybe David should be Mr. Lady Cutthroat, and you can be the rent-a-muscle.”

“Stop it!” Killian’s mouth pulled in a slight smile. All these years, and she was still the most annoying woman. “Immunity?”

“Yep. To get an invite, I need to gamble… real gamble, not this piss and water shit.” Emma’s hands moved up his arms. “That means I break my agreement, per my retirement. I have to gamble, so I want immunity.”

“Okay. Deal.”

“I want it in writing. All legal like. Just like the last time. Signed, sealed, and delivered with a kiss” Emma told him breathily, her lips grazing Killian’s. “So call the stuffed-shirt, Robin. Tell Mr. U.S. Attorney he will have to authorize.”

“He already did. He gave me an open ticket.”

“Not good enough. I need it in writing.” Emma looked at her watch, a thin, delicate golden strand on her arm. “Two hours. My lawyers will be here. Be on time, or don’t come. Now run along like a good public servant.” Her green eyes flashed in amusement.

Killian glared at her, his mouth drawing into a nasty smile. “Hope you haven’t lost your touch, Swan! Think you’ve still got it?” His tone implied that he doubted it.

Emma threw her shoe at the closing door. _Boorish bastard!_ She collapsed on the sofa in a huff, staring at the closed door and reluctantly, a smile spread on her face. _Oh, this could be fun_.

~*~

Killian swore at his cell phone. It was late. More than late. It was early, early morning and David was still inputting data. If they could intercept Will before he made Crocodile, they might stop it before it started. So they’d pulled an all-nighter. He growled into his phone.

“Testy. That is why you should try keeping decent hours, and sleeping,” Emma’s soft voice sounded in Killian’s ear.

“Lady G. Why you calling me so early?”

“Hmm,” Emma sighed. “No reason, Junior G. Just thought I’d tell you that Lady Cutthroat is going to Crocodile. I’ve got three games before, so you need to get in wardrobe, something sexy and elegant, befitting my husband. Nothing off the rack, Armani gold label is preferred. I like my men in raw silk, worsted wool, or nothing. Underwear totally optional, but you do know my preference.”

“I know about your inclinations, Swan,” Killian returned, ignoring David’s look. He tipped back his chair stretching his back. His voice was deep, low, and sexy, “Whatcha wearing?”

Emma laughed lightly, “Nothin’ honey.” She gently returned the receiver to the cradle.

~*~

Crocodile Island, a small stretch of land just off the Florida Keys, was held in sole ownership by one family, the Gold’s of Texas. The current family head, known only as Mr. Gold, had opened his island to the world of illegal gambling, freedom from back room casinos in what became the World Series of No Limit Hold ‘Em Poker. Whereas the legal game had a buy-in of ten grand for the privilege of a seat, this game came with a heftier price tag, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

One truth remained. It was an invite only game where the invites only went to an elite circuit of known and respected gamblers. That opened the door for over seventy-five entries leaving over eighteen million to be split in numerous ways.

With high stakes came heavy security. Crocodile Island had its own police force and security guards.

“No guns.”

Emma frowned and gestured for David not to protest. “Sorry, David is my security. I’m carrying a large quantity of money. He and my husband are carrying them for good reason.”

The man looked at Emma, and she smiled charmingly. “Sorry, ma’am. No one carries on Crocodile Island. They may check in their pieces with us, and we’ll return their property when they leave.”

Emma shrugged. “Sorry boys, you heard the man.” Emma smiled at the guard once more. “Do I turn over my money for the buy in with you as well?”

“No, ma’am. You need to take it to the main complex. The opening game will hold in bank for buy in chips.”

“Fine. Then I’ll need one of your lovely men to escort me… with a gun. Trusting, I’m not.”

“Always causing a ruckus,” a voice said from the doorway. Emma looked over and smiled with genuine warmth. “Neal Cassidy. As I live and breathe.”

Neal took Emma’s hand and kissed it, then leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. The growling sound from Killian drew both of their attention. Neal looked at him with interest.

“Pardon?”

“Sorry, Neal. I don’t think you’ve met my husband. Killian, this is Neal Cassidy.”

Neal’s eyebrow went up. “Married? Is that where you disappeared to over the past three years. I heard that you were only gambling in the legit casinos, but no high stakes.”

“Honeymoon,” Emma said as Neal shook Killian’s hand. Emma sniffed. “It had to end sooner or later,” she said with a touch of sarcasm. “Who knew three years could last so long, almost an eternity.”

Killian looked at her sharply with a narrowing look, but he remained silent.

Neal whooped with laughter. He waved security away. “Sorry about the regulations. I’d okay your boys keeping their pieces, but regulations are set up for a reason.” Neal watched both Killian and David hand over their guns. “I know they’re actually guarding you and not some small chicken scratch.”

“Always a gentleman, Neal. Where is that lovely father of yours? I need to thank him for the invite.”

Neal led them towards the main house, leaving their bags to be taken care of by the Island workers. “He was excited when he heard you were out and about. His resistance is low. He’s been sulking since Peoria five years back when you took him in the freeze out.”

Emma laughed. “That was a low-end game. Buy in was only ten thousand.” Emma tsked, thinking of the massive amount of chips she’d scored. It had been a good game.

“True, but he held half the chips in the final bout, and you took ‘em all. Before he could ever arrange a rematch, you were off the circuit. Where were you, Emma? Making babies?”

Emma turned pale, and Killian noticed her reaction. Curious. She actually looked sick. “Nope. Would you trust children with me? I’d probably use them as collateral for a blind.”

“High or low?” Neal asked curiously.

“Definitely high,” she laughed. Emma inhaled heavily. “Aw the smell of money is in the air, I can almost hear the crisp clinking of chips.”

“You make plenty.”

Emma snorted rolling her eyes. “Where does my money go?”

Neal laughed, ignoring the two men. “That is the mystery! Why would we play if we had enough?”

“It’s not the money, you know that Neal,” Emma said. Neal patted her hand. She was right. It was the stakes. The high stakes, the thrill of winning, and the possibility of losing so much money in one turn of the cards. Games of chance had an adrenaline rush unlike anything else. Mental extreme sports, pitting a mental power to bluff and steel nerves against a competitor. They were all predators.

Neal nodded to one of the men in the main house. “Please show Ms. Emma to her rooms. Their bags are down at check-in.” Neal bent to kiss Emma again, but caught Killian’s eye and quickly deviated to her cheek. “We put you in the main house. Dad wants to keep an eye on you. We’ll expect you to dine with the family, your husband, too.” Neal nodded at Killian and excused himself. “Emma, Mr. Lady Cutthroat.”

He was gone before Killian could make a comment. Emma pulled him with her as a houseworker escorted them to their suite. They were given a full suite with a connecting side room off the main suite for David. Emma tossed her bag. They waited for the door to shut before anyone spoke.

“Think that Will-” David started, but Emma interrupted.

“I think it’s a lovely room. David, be a dear and check your room. I hate to think you’ll be uncomfortable.” Emma looked around. “This is so much nicer than the main gambling casino Gold built, where the others will be housed. Last time I was there it had lots of bugs. It was a bad year for them.” Emma turned and smiled at the two men. “You don’t think there’ll be bugs this year, do you?”

David nodded. He got her meaning. He and Killian began a methodical search of the room. They went over it twice while Emma let the men delivering their bags into the room.

David grabbed his bag and retrieved some electronics from a hidden bottom, along with two guns. He passed Killian one and an extra clip. Both men rearmed themselves. David quickly checked out the room again now that he had his equipment.

“It’s clean.” He returned his electronic device to its case.

Emma yawned. “Gold bugged me last time hoping to hear strategy. He probably refrained this year. He knows I never talk in my sleep.” Emma patted Killian’s stomach. “Guess he could’ve asked you, sugar.”

“Emma how does-” Killian started but Emma distracted him. She started taking off her clothing, ignoring who was in her room.

“If you want to check on Will’s arrival, I suggest the main casino. Tell them you are checking layout and security, David. That is your job. They will be very forthcoming. Also find out where we bank the buy in. It’ll give you cover.” Emma looked at her watch. She was exhausted. Three games in less than thirty-six hours. She needed down time before the evening opener began, but first she would have to survive family dinner with the Gold’s.

David nodded and hit Killian on the arm. Emma turned at the bedroom door. Looking at Killian, she arched an eyebrow, “You coming, honey?”

David laughed. “Go do your duty. You’re the husband. It would look funny for you to wander around without her.”

“True. You coming to dinner?”

David shook his head. “No way! I’m the paid muscle. I’ll eat with the other security guys. Get some good gossip that way.” David laughed on his way out the room.

Killian looked around the place. Too big. Too showy. He hated places like this. Not Emma. She was raised in hotels and casinos. They were home. The woman’s idea of cooking or cleaning was calling room service or housekeeping. It didn’t help that her father, Jon Swan won a casino in a take all poker hand over ten years ago. Getting her away from this life was damn near impossible.

“Swan,” Killian entered the bedroom, “what did you mean by Gold knows you don’t talk in your sleep? Swan?”

She was on the bed, never even made it beneath the covers, sleeping in a silky slip thing with her insanely tall shoes still attached to her feet. Killian removed them, dropping them on the floor, and covered her with a throw blanket. Curled on her side, she was sleeping with a hand under her cheek, her face fresh, carefree, and young. Without that wary spark in her eye, and the alarming mature glint that was suspicious and cynical, she suddenly looked barely eighteen.

Killian watched her sleep for a while, wondering what the hell he’d have to do to finally get her free of this world? Would he ever find a way? Three years later, and it was apparent, he was failing miserably. Rubbing his scruff, he yawned and finally let tiredness drag him onto the bed beside her. Rolling over he drew her body close to his, molding himself around her, and he joined his hand over hers where a wedding ring sparkled.

~*~

Killian moved in the large bed, reaching for the phone as it rang loudly. “Yeah?” He listened and quickly thanked the man. Hanging up the phone, he looked down at Emma. She had turned in her sleep, and was sprawled across his chest. She looked tired and a little under the weather. In the last three days, she’d taken over four games, playing fast and furious. She’d been using the time to get her head back into the game. It had been a while since she’d played for high stakes. Talent was one thing, but all skills required practice.

“Emma.” Killian bent down to talk softly in her ear, “Hey, wake up, sleeping brat.”

“Loser.” She pushed him away and turned over hugging a pillow.

“The call came through. Cocktails in half an hour.”

Emma groaned. “Family dinners suck. Kill me now. The food will be expensive, overcooked, and look like a nightmare. Bet they got a five-star French chef. All the meat will be covered in some damn sauce. What the hell is wrong with a good grilled steak and a potato?” Emma rolled onto her back dejectedly. “I need to be fashionably late.”

She turned her head, her gaze running over Killian, and she smiled. “Half an hour?” He nodded, his eyes taking on a bright glint. Her hand ran up his front, popping the button of his shirt. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to sleep in your clothes?”

“My mother told me to stay away from dangerous and fast women.”

“So that’s where you get that fatal attraction. Your poor mom. Didn’t she know that a boy will do the exact opposite?”

Killian leaned in and nibbled on her bottom lip. “You really want to talk about my mother?”

A fine shudder went through Emma. “Absolutely not! But I’m going to send her mental vibes about all the things I want to do to you, and that should give her a coronary.”

Killian laughed softly against her as she kissed him. Not so happy with his mother recently, he didn’t find Emma’s reaction to his mom a bad thing. Groaning, his hand found the length of bare skin beneath the hem of her slip. Elegant. She was so damn elegant all the time. When he first met her, he hadn’t realized that women, young women could have a sense of timeless style. She did everything almost as if she lived trapped in a bygone era where women wore dresses, coiffed clothing, and dressing down was an unknown concept. Emma Swan should’ve been born a century or more back, she would’ve owned a high price casino and whore house.

“I thought you were mad at me,” he said after he’d pulled back slightly.

Emma bit his lip. “I am. That’s why I’m getting you all hot and bothered. Frustration is good for a man. Gives him a mean look… an edge.” She laughed as she rolled off the bed eluding Killian’s hands. Looking at her watch she grimaced. They would be late for sure. Her hair was a mess and her bags hadn’t been unpacked yet. “No time right now, G-man. I’ll let you try to detain me later.” Emma walked to the bathroom, her voice flowing behind her in a sugary sweet mimicry of something… well, hell, very sick in Killian’s mind. “Honey…” Killian hacked at the sugary tone. “Could you get my bags? Thanks, snookums.”

Killian groaned and lay back on the bed. It reminded him of the six-year pursuit of her. Lots of frustration. Lots of cold showers. She was the one thing he wanted. The one thing he couldn’t have. Six years of teasing, chasing, and evading and he’d been a card-carrying member of the Blue Ball Syndrome Club. In fact, he’d been their bloody poster boy.

~*~

Gold’s house was, of course, the grandest on the island. Attached to the casino via an underground tunnel, an invite into the inner sanctum of Gold was a hard-earned privilege that very few achieved. And Mr. Gold was the main attraction. A man firm in the rule of his family, but lax in one area. His young wife, Belle.

He married her twelve years ago when she was nineteen. At fifty-five, Gold felt that Belle was the one thing he couldn’t lose. Killian assessed the woman immediately as he entered the room with Emma on his arm. It was hard not to know what type of woman she was. He could feel her eyes stripping his clothes, but not before noticing the label and cut. The sound of cash registers was loud and apparent. Belle Gold was a gold digging opportunist. She had a love for money and power, and not much else

Her hatred of Emma Swan was apparent. Emma was a woman that belonged in this world, that commanded money and respect, and she’d earned it all on her own. That put her on a pedestal in the eyes of the very men that Belle had always preyed upon.

“Emma!” Mr. Gold’s warm smile was friendly and genuine. He bent in and kissed her cheek, then reached over to firmly shake Killian’s hand. “Neal told me you got married! This is a surprise! Jon didn’t say a word.”

“And for good reason,” said a voice from the door. Emma groaned. Turning and smiling big, she left Killian’s side.

“Hi, Daddy. I didn’t know you were coming to Crocodile.” Kissing her father’s cheek and returning a hug, Emma did something she never did. She gave a tell sign. Nervous. She nibbled on a nail.

“Where else would I be? The big surprise is your presence.” Jon Swan looked Killian up and down, his eyebrow raising. “Killian, how are you?”

“Fine, Sir.” _Well, sonnabitch. Jon Swan._ This was an unforeseen complication.

Jon snorted and nodded to the other people. His eyes stopped on Belle, more specifically her cleavage. “Belle, you’re looking… healthy.”

Gold hit his old friend on the back. “Jon, what’ll you have?”

“MacCutcheon. Straight.”

“I’ll get it,” said Neal joining them. He stopped to kiss Emma’s hand, ignoring the glare from both Killian and Belle. “Lady Cutthroat, name your poison.”

“Well, Sir, a nice Tennessee Mash would be lovely, but I think I’ll stick to tomato juice, touch of Tabasco and celery, virgin.”

Neal’s eyes went wide. “You on the wagon?”

Emma sniffed. “Someone,” she said with bite, “suggested that I drink too much.”

“Who is that uncouth bore to defame a lady, thus?” Graham Humbert asked as he entered the room with a tall blonde on his arm. Graham stopped next to Emma. “Lady Cutthroat?” Emma nodded. “Your reputation precedes you. I’ve always wanted to meet you.”

“And you must be Graham,” Emma replied sweetly. “My husband…um…” Emma stuttered purposely forgetting Killian’s name.

“Killian.” Killian pinched Emma’s side smiling at her small yelp. “Mr. Humbert. This is an honor.”

“Indeed.” Graham quickly dismissed Killian and went on to charm Belle. Emma looked his dinner companion over. She had white blonde hair and wore a skimpy dress with her breasts threatening to bounce out. Her cold blue eyes were interesting. They belied her face and attitude. She was more than she appeared.

“I’m sorry, Graham. I’m afraid I didn’t catch your companion’s name,” Emma inquired.

“Elsa.” Graham said off handedly. “Elsa, get me a drink.”

Emma thanked Neal for her drink, and she sipped it while sharing a look over the rim with Killian. “Isn’t this fun? Honey, you know how to pick the best parties.”

“Shut up,” said Killian softly. “Did you know about your father and Humbert?”

“I’m not the person who was supposed to pull intel, Junior G. My job was to get us here Done.” Emma moved her hand inside Killian’s jacket along his waist. “Belle is undressing you again,” she said softly in his ear.

“Aye, I can feel the bruises on my body.” Killian looked down at her. “Will Jon say anything?”

Emma shrugged. “Hard to say. He likes a good show. He’ll probably sit back and watch the fireworks.”

“Great.” Killian took her drink and took a sip. “No vodka. What’s up?”

“Now why does something have to be up?” Emma licked her lips. “Sweetie, I swear you’re almost accusing me of manipulating things.”

“Emma.” Killian’s eyes narrowed. She laughed but stopped when he quickly kissed her, regardless of the company. He moved away, leaving her breathless, but not before taking the stalk of celery from her glass and munching it loudly. “I believe the pot is to you,” he smirked. “Check or raise.”

Killian went to pour another drink while Emma fumed a little. She hated when he bested her. She sure as hell wouldn’t fold.

Killian was standing at the mini bar in the corner sipping his drink, and watching everyone as discreetly as possible. He couldn’t contact David to see if he’d located Will yet, but Humbert being there was potentially a problem. He couldn’t be trying to shut Will up himself, so there could be a loose gun running around and Humbert wanted a front row seat. Killian did a double take when he noticed Neal handing Belle a drink, the way they shared a look, and the way Belle slid her hand along Neal’s suggestively. Hmm.

“What the hell are you doing here, Killian? For that matter, what is my daughter doing here?” Jon asked sliding up to the bar and pouring himself another drink.

“She wanted to play.”

Jon rolled his eyes, a habit shared with his daughter. “You effectively destroyed that part of her life three years ago. Don’t give me that,” Jon shot back, sipping his drink. “This reeks of you using my daughter again. Bad enough you took everything from her, now you use her when it serves your purpose.” Jon’s stomach was souring. He hadn’t spent much of his life noticing his daughter, in fact, at one time, he’d actively ignored her. She pretty much raised herself, and one day he woke up, and she was gone. Now things were different. He wanted her back. She’d let him in a little, but not much. “She’s unhappy. I guess I have you to thank for that, too.”

Killian glanced at Emma who was talking to Neal. “What do you mean?”

Jon sneered at Killian. “You’re her husband!” he said sarcastically, “you should know. Killian fucking Jones. The man that took his daughter out of the life. The Swan legacy. _Bastard._  Jon backed off before his emotions got the better of him and he took a swing at Killian.

Emma had been right. It was the dinner from Hell, the food just as she’d predicted. French cuisine. Small pieces of lamb medallions covered in a mint sauce, three spears of asparagus, and a small tureen of mushrooms and new potatoes. Killian spooned his watercress soup; letting it pour back into the bowl. He was going to starve to death here, and the look on Emma’s face confirmed that she felt the same.

“Mr. Gold, I must say that your chef has done you proud,” Emma schmoozed. Killian’s eyes narrowed. Oh, she was up to something. Her voice took on a slick southern sound when she was on the mark. “But I was wondering if I could trouble you for a nice steak, medium rare, with a large baked potato?”

Belle’s voice rose in indignation, “What? This isn’t good enough for you?”

“No. It’s just that I’m pregnant, and really need the extra protein. For the baby. Doctor’s orders. I’ve been wasting away lately,” Emma said sweetly. Both Killian and Jon Swan coughed on their food at the same time.

It wasn’t too much longer when Emma was happily munching down a huge steak dripping in onions and grilled mushrooms. Her potato was the size of the damn state of Texas, and it was covered in sour cream and melted butter. The rest of the guests stared at her plate in envy.

Killian leaned in. “You’re pregnant!” His voice was accusing.

Emma snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. Got me my steak though, didn’t it?”

Killian stared at her in disbelief. That explained her not drinking alcohol. Mr. Gold fawned all over Emma, ordered her a huge hearty meal, and tried to push seconds on her. “You lied!” Killian groused.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, so? You know me.” Damn, after nine years he was just now figuring this out? Not too swift these G-Men types. “Look, G, sweetie, I’ve got a full night of gambling. I need my energy. Steak. Good. Tiny emaciated lamb medallions. Bad.”

“Give me a bite, love.”

Emma hoarded her plate, moving it away from his hungry eyes. “This is mine,” she mumbled through a mouthful of baked potato. “Get your own!”

~*~

“Will Scarlett.” Emma eyed her prey up and down. Here he was. The man responsible for her current state of affairs.

“Emma,” Will greeted, smiling his charming slick grin. “You’re as beautiful as I remember. Haven’t seen you since Tunica.”

“It’s been a while,” Emma acknowledged as she took a seat next to him. “You closed for the night?”

“Aye, wiped out my table,” he grinned. “Advancing to the next night. Went down to see those losers booted off.”

“You’re such a sweetheart,” Emma sneered, motioning for a bottle of water. She was parched. Ten hours of play and she was ready to hit the sheets. “Hear you’re in a bad way. Turning on Humbert. That takes some major cajones, buddy.”

“He turned on a deal with me. It’s the code. Can’t let him stiff me that way.”

“Ratting comes with its own price. You know that.”

Will shrugged. Graham was a bigger rat. Plus, he sort of owed someone. “I got into this situation. There is this bull terrier after me. Real mean son of a bitch. He put the pressure on with all this crap about civil duty, and it was a real downer.” Fucking Killian Jones. _Bastard._ Will tossed back his drink and motioned for another. “I, in a moment of weakness, agreed. My life has been shite since. They locked me away, Lady C. I almost missed this shindig.”

“Maybe you should have. I had dinner with Graham Humbert tonight.”

Emma watched as Will went pale. Well, who knew. He hadn’t known. Unreal. No one passed gossip faster than grafters.

“He’s here?!”

“Mm hmm. Word is he hired a gun to take you out. Pop holes in your lily white ass,” Emma teased, smiling into her drink. “Though I’m sure you’re use to people taking shots at you. Women?”

Will practically spit out his drink. “Not the ladies, lass! They love me. Naw, it’s their husbands I have problems with.”

“You sleep with Graham’s girl?”

Will looked around, and whispered to Emma. “Naw, his mother!”

“No! Get out of here! She has to be like… old!” Emma wrinkled her nose at the thought.

“Best set of legs outside of yours, I swear. Woman got me drunk and abused me.”

“Yeah, I bet.” Emma rested her elbow on the bar and, resting her head in her hand, stared at the man. Will. He had a sweet boyish charm all of his own. Dark brown hair and wicked hazel eyes. He had a way of smiling that made a person know that he was alive, full of fun, and ready to share. “I bet women abuse you all the time! Throw you on the bed and have their wicked way.”

“I hate to say no. It might bruise their sensitive ego.”

Emma nodded. Such a lovely boy. “So you slept with Graham’s mother, and he retaliated by dropping a deal with you?”

“Cost me a bundle. It was a hard enough drop that I got picked up by the Feds. They offered me a deal, and I didn’t see any reason not to take it, turn over on Graham seeing how he snitched me out to the Feds in the first place.”

“Turnabout’s fair play?”

“Aye, lass,” Will smiled at Emma, moving in on her. “So, you look lonely, sort of sad. You’ve been off the circuit lately. You okay?”

“Been keeping clean. I had this annoying pest situation.” Emma knew Killian was listening. She was sure he would have something to say about that later. “Anyway, this pest was a big, huge infestation. Sucked my life dry. I swear. I had no recourse, so I accepted the inevitable.”

“That sucks. Let me buy you a drink.”

Emma smiled. “You want to buy me a drink?” _Oh this should be interesting_ , she thought. “Sure, what do you suggest?”

Will moved closer, pushing a bowl of peanuts to Emma. “Oh, we could take it to a private party. Whiskey shots? I’ll tell you about my game tonight. I was on the mark.”

“Whiskey.” Emma felt a pull of a smile. “I don’t know. I’ve heard all about you, Will. I know there’s nothing you like more than gambling, than the ladies.”

“Not true! It’s the ladies! They love me. I’m innocent, love, I swear.”

Emma laughed. Oh, that charm. She would recognize it anywhere. It was lethal, but she had already been bitten, so it was easy to see it for what it was. It didn’t matter. Her pit bull would be there, sooner or later.

Emma felt him before she saw him. So. Okay, sooner.

Will saw him, too. He put his head down on the bar groaning. “Bloody Hell! Who let you in?” Will hit the bar with his hand. “This is not fair! Not fair.”

“Buck it up, Will. You’ve been bad,” Killian said, his face stony and mean. “Very bad.”

“Yeah, according to you! Story of my life.” Will looked at the bartender. “Hit me again. Hit me hard, and keep them coming.”

“You’re a liability. You know that?” Killian moaned.

Will shrugged. “I’m not leaving, so don’t even suggest it. I’ll scream and shriek. I’m sure Gold will take issue having Feds in his house.”

Killian rolled his eyes, clearly picking up the habit from Emma. “You’re not safe here. Humbert is taking a front seat interest. He rolled power players to whack you.”

Will grabbed his two drinks. “Good thing you’re here then. Stop them from interfering with my game, and I’ll go like a lamb after day four. Earlier if I get ousted from the table. Deal?”

Emma refused to make eye contact with Killian. His deal. His runner. Not her business. She held her breath. It was the game and the game was everything.

Killian blew the air from his lungs. It was stupid to keep Will in the open. He was a potential loss. Staring at Emma’s bowed head, Killian bit back his natural instinct to take his charge and go. She wasn’t putting in her two cents, but he could almost feel her holding her breath.

“Okay. We stay.”

Will smiled. That was unexpected. “I stay, but you need to make sure you keep up with me on the tourney. Lose a day, and you’re gone.” Will winked at Emma. He took his drinks and went to find a party.

Killian sat next to Emma. Noting her water, he nodded for another bottle and one for him. “Can you hold on as long as him?” he asked quietly.

“Not a problem,” Emma replied, ripping the label off her water. “I can hold, but I go to day four and finals, then it’s for me, and you have to worry about your own concerns.”

“Understood.” Killian took the mutilated bottle from her. “You really think I destroyed your life?” he asked quietly.

“I didn’t say you destroyed it,” Emma said.

“No, no you didn’t. You said I sucked your life dry.” Her father said he ruined her life. Killian’s stomach hurt. He had to be working on a damn ulcer.

“You definitely changed it. It was inevitable,” Emma sighed heavily. “What happened, Killian? Three years ago,” Emma said looking at him, “I walked in, you didn’t take me in. I made the deal with Robin. I didn’t have to do that. It was my choice.”

“You did it for me,” he stated.

“I did.” Emma took her water back. “Guess you can say that I did the damage to my life, all by myself.”

He never asked her why. He thought he knew. Maybe he needed to hear it from her. “Why?” Killian scratched behind his ear. “Why, Swan?”

Emma stroked his cheek, looking into his eyes. “Maybe I thought you were worth it.” She felt extremely tired, she needed to sleep. “You’ve been on a desk lately. How do you like it?”

“Hate it.” It was easy to be honest about that. He hated being pulled from the field.

“Then perhaps now you understand how I feel.” Emma left him sitting there.

~*~

David looked over when she came through the door. The wire she had on was off in two seconds flat. “That is the last time I wear a wire. It stifles my movement. I can’t concentrate.”

“You were on tonight.”

“Not on enough. I felt stiff,” she grumbled as she sat down and took off her shoes. “I’m going to have to do some real soul searching, get my mind in the zone. I might not get to do this again anytime soon. I should enjoy myself.”

David nodded. “He was out the door once you started talking to Will.”

“He’s getting slower in his old age.”

David laughed at that. “He’s been upset. Worried about you.”

Emma shrugged. “He knows better. I’m fine. I’m always fine.”

“You disappeared.”

“Yeah, well I don’t remember the deal I made including me signing in and out, or keeping the authorities informed of my schedule.”

David looked at her. “It didn’t, but you know he spent a lot of years playing _catch me if you can_ with you. Old habits are hard to kick.”

“Well, I warned him. I gave him the full Jack Nicholson deal.”

David frowned. “Jack Nicholson?”

“Yeah, as good as it gets.” David laughed at that. “I think I’ll go take a long bath and go to bed.”

David watched her, but he couldn’t let it stand at that. “Emma,” David waited for her to look back at him. “It was a good thing you did. You saved his career.” Emma nodded. She was too tired to really think about it.

~*~

Killian came out of the bedroom in only his pants, still wiping moisture off his shoulders from the shower. David was talking on the phone, and Will was sleeping on the sofa. It was the end of the third day. So far it had been uneventful. Both Will and Emma had advanced to the finals, taking two of the nine final seats.

“How is she?” David asked once his call was finished.

Killian stretched. He’d slept badly. His mother’s insistence for naps was something else to hold against her. He sneered at the sleeping Will. “Her usual freaky self,” Killian replied to David’s question. “She just spent five minutes in the bathroom while I was showering, telling me how this side of the house is unlucky. That Gold did it on purpose. There was also something about my deodorant.”

“Will told me that changing my socks would be bad luck,” David answered with a bewildered looked.

Killian rolled his eyes. “Emma has a list. She won’t touch plastic. Wood only, no laminate. She tossed out clothing that might be synthetic. She woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted the left side of the bed. Also, she’d like you to go back to the mainland and get her a new lucky rabbit’s foot.”

“Killian! Did you touch the side of the door when you went through? You have to touch the side of the door!” Emma asked in a rush of words as she joined them.

“Lady G, you’re getting deranged,” Will said groggily, her frantic voice having woke him.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not looking at elimination! I swear if it’s pasta for dinner, I’ll know that Gold is trying to sabotage me.” Emma hit Killian with his shirt. “This has synthetic fibers. Toss it! I’m going to go check the kitchen. I need to make sure that they got the milk fresh this morning. Nothing frozen. Nothing from concentrate.”

Will laid back on the sofa with a hat over his face to keep out the light. “It’ll get worse. Last night is always the worst. I didn’t change my underwear once for sixteen days.”

Killian and David both stepped further away from him.

Emma, the maniacal suite genie, went around the room rearranging the furniture, Feng Shuing the world from a possible misalignment at the next convergence.

“In the next few hours it is important that no one look at me, talk to me directly, or break my concentration. No music or strong odors. I should avoid men altogether,” she ordered as she moved.

Killian ignored her ranting and went into the bedroom pulling on his shirt. This was a woman that saved the rinds off salami. No one ever accused her of sanity. "Emma, get your arse in here right now!" It was a loud roar and it echoed throughout the room. Emma crossed her eyes at David and he decided to discreetly leave the room.

"You bellowed G-Man?" she said as she entered their bedroom.

Killian stood next to the bed, arms folded, expression stern, but with a twinkle in his blue eyes "What is all this?"

Eyes wide, and shining with innocence, Emma glanced over at the bed. She took in the pile of socks, boxers, and tee shirts that literally covered the king sized bed. "Umm, the underwear elves visited?"

Killian shook his head.

"Two for one sale at Tighty Whities? Ugly Undies R Us?" she tried again.

"Emma! You rifled through my-"

“Unmentionables?” Emma shrugged. “Baby, you don’t need all that extra cover. It just makes it harder to get to skin.”

Killian stood tapping his foot. He was not amused.

"Okay, so your clothing was poorly arranged. I thought you could refold them-" Before she could finish speaking, Killian pounced on her, shoving her down on the bed amidst the pile of tees and silk boxers.

“Hey,” she cried out indignantly. “Do you mind? This dress is 100% silk.”

He leaned over her, ignoring her words and nibbled softly on her chin. "That thing about avoiding men? Is that another one of your taboo, superstition things?”

"Oh yeah. Men. Bad for the knees, and hard on the concentration," she replied, her eyes fluttering closed at the feel of his lips on her neck.

"Does that include me?"

Emma looked at him and grinned. "You made me create that rule. But… since you’re my husband…" She ran a hand over Killian's back, pulling him closer. "So we're okay, right?"

"Aye." Killian licked the side of her neck again. “If you tell me why you said you were going to Atlantic City for three days, and six days later I find you in Las Vegas.”

“I think best at a table. I followed a few. Las Vegas was where I ended up. That’s all,” she sighed.

“You weren’t running away?”

“From you? Nope. You should know by now, I only run away from myself.” Emma kissed his chin. “I had some hard thinking to do, and you know I can’t think clearly unless I’m holding cards down.”

“So why are you mad at me?”

Emma kissed him hard. “It took you six days to find me! You’re getting rusty.”

“No I’m not! I was busy with stupid Will. I would’ve been there sooner,” he reasoned, a little hurt she would think such things.

Emma sighed in exasperation. “I knew it! Now that I’m not a felon, you don’t find me sexy anymore. Chasing Will excites you more than I do.”

Killian snorted. “Are you suggesting that I find Will sexy?”

“Do you?” Emma laughed at the face he made. Well that answered her question. “Well, thank goodness for that!” Emma ran her finger along his throat. “So, are you going to help me rearrange the bedroom?”

Killian smirked at her question. No, he wasn’t. He had actually started looking for her the day _before_ she was due back. He was busy with Will’s shenanigans though, so he’d taken his time, given her the space he normally wouldn’t. “Nope. So are we good, darling?”

"Yep, and you know what that means."

"What?" Killian let her push him over on his back. She still hadn’t told him what hard thinking she’d had to do, but she would when she was ready.

"Makeup sex!"

The piles of his clothing were shoved to the floor as they made up for lost time. Killian latched onto the tender spot just under the curve of Emma's jaw, sucking wetly as his hands traveled down her silk-covered body, finding all the curves he knew so well.

Emma groaned under his exploring hands, her own trailing along the curve of his hard muscled back. One hand squeezed solid muscle, as her other hand grasped the back of his neck, mating her mouth to his.

"Oh god! I hate it when you take off. It's been so long," Killian groaned into her mouth. Her fingers stroked his skin, and Killian shifted back slightly giving Emma better access, a groan low in his throat. "Six days is too long. Shit, Emma, twenty-four hours is too long without you."

Emma sat up, and moved to straddle his hips. She never talked much. She removed his shirt, and tossed it over the side with the rest of his mangled clothing.

He looked up at her with a lopsided grin, unsure what her ultimate plan was, but he would let her do as she pleased. There was something so hot about a woman taking charge, and when it was this woman it was infinitely hotter.

She climbed off his lap and took a step back from him and studied him for a moment. After all these years, Killian Jones was still one of the most handsome men she had ever known. His short-cropped dark brown hair was growing out slightly, a step away from the regulation buzz cut the F.B.I. preferred for its agents. His wildly beautiful blue eyes were glowing with what she recognized as want and need. The scruff on his face beckoned to her, as always, and she longed to scratch her face against his to feel the whiskers against her skin.

“I want you to see me,” she uttered simply. Silently she turned her head to the right and looked over her shoulder, her left hand rising to her back to unzip the zipper along her spinal column slowly. After she lowered the zip, the back of her dress hanging open, but the front of her body still covered by the silky fabric, she bent at the waist, focusing on her feet. Letting Killian see her back and letting her long, blonde hair drape over her face, she unhooked the ties on her heels, letting them fall to the sides of her ankles without removing the nude-colored heels. With a flourish of drama, she threw her hair back over her head and rose to her full height. Looking down at him, she was amused to find his eyes glassy and his mouth open in what could be construed as shock.

Raising her left hand, she ever-so-slowly brushed the silk fabric off her right shoulder, revealing a black bra strap, before raising her other hand to bare her other shoulder and allowing the dress to fall to the ground without any pretenses. She stood nearly bare before him in her nude high heels, wearing a black lace bra and a matching lace thong. She spun in a slow circle, allowing him a moment to ogle.

He gulped audibly. “You are so fucking hot.”

“Why, thank you, Mr. Jones,” she drawled, standing still for a few more moments to let him appreciate her lithe form.

“I need to touch you,” he croaked out, his voice harsh with his need for her.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” she murmured as she took two long strides forward. She stepped one knee onto the mattress before placing the other on the other side of his hips, effectively trapping him, then she lowered her head to meet his mouth in a searing kiss. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a fluid motion as she pressed her whole torso and lower body against his hard body.

He was stunned for a moment before he responded to her advances. He circled his arms around her waist then let his hands wander to her ass, where he grabbed an ample handful as she ravished him.

Emma was kissing her way from his lips, up his jawline and to his ear before sucking the soft flesh into her mouth and gnawing lightly with her teeth. She earned a drawn-out moan from Killian and a light smack to her bottom in response. He knew she had a thing for his ears, and while he didn’t understand that certain kink, he embraced her passion for every inch of him.

Emma kissed back down his jawline and worked her way to the other side of his face, tracing his chin with her tongue. She rose up on the other side and dropped a chaste kiss to his other earlobe before lowering her lips to his neck. She breathed in his scent deeply before placing a kiss on his pulse point, something she knew would drive him wild, then she nipped at the thin skin there, appreciating the feel of his heartbeat beneath her lips.

Killian was so blown away by having her in his arms again that he wasn’t sure where to begin, but he knew first, he wanted to kiss her again. Regrettably removing his hands from her backside, he gripped her face in his hands gently, forcing her away from his neck and making her look at him.

Incredibly dark, forest green eyes met a deepening blue, and his lips crashed against hers once again. Killian’s hands tangled in her locks as their lips met forcefully over and again. Emma’s tongue snaked into his mouth and danced with his for a moment before she retreated once more. Kissing her passionately and hard, he moaned as her nails scraped deliciously along his back.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” she panted into his mouth. Brought out of the moment Killian realized that he still wore his jeans while she was nearly naked. And while this was certainly okay, as they knew where this make out session was leading, both were eager to get on with it.

Unable to stop herself, she shifted off his lap after giving him one final kiss. Emma dropped to her knees on the floor in front of him, licking her lips in anticipation, and shooting him a wicked smirk. She ran her fingers from his waist to his shoulders, delighting in the shiver that ran through him as she watched him closely. She leaned forward to take his right nipple between her lips, sucking and nipping at the flesh until the nub was standing at attention. Her fingers dragged through his chest hair before she shifted her focus to his other nipple, repeating her actions. Then she dragged her lips from his chest down to his abs, planting various kisses on the toned flesh she found there until she reached his belly button. There, she kissed a circle, then moved lower, licking the V line that extended from his covered lower body; stopping at his pants, she looked up at him questioningly.

He nodded once, and one of his hands rose to tangle in her hair once again.

Emma deftly unbuttoned the top hole before unzipping the pants and then tried, unsuccessfully, to push them down. He was still sitting though, and the pants were clearly not moving.

Killian moved suddenly, grasping Emma in his arms and pulling her tightly to him.  Appreciating the feel of her body against his, he pulled her onto the bed, rolling both their bodies so she was lying down on the far side. He stood quickly, pushed his jeans down past his hips, and stepped out of them once they reached his ankles. Standing in nothing but a pair of tight boxer-briefs, Killian stood before her to let her look her fill, as she had for him.

Emma saw exactly what she wanted. She leaned back and appreciated the sight of his body, and he gave her the same amount of time to ogle him as she had earlier before climbing onto the bed and collapsing next to her, his head right next to hers.

She turned to meet his eyes, and they kissed again before Killian pulled back, mischief clear in his expression. He reared back on his knees, moving to hover over her long legs, which were still locked together. Leaning forward, he kissed above her heart before dragging his lips down to the edge of her bra, nosing it aside to reveal a rosy, pink nipple which he immediately sucked into his mouth. He moaned against her, sending vibrations through her entire body, and he bit down on her suddenly, earning a strangled moan from Emma.

He stopped his ministrations to look up at her, and he grinned as he recognized her tensed expression. Emma’s eyes were squeezed closed, her lips were pursed, and her eyebrows were pulled together in the moment. He fought a laugh at the seriousness he found before continuing to lave on her breast before switching to the other, earning equally delightful groans and sounds from her.

He finally unhooked the center clasp of her lace bra, and her breasts sprang free. He kissed the tips of both nipples before moving south, kissing his way from her chest to her abdomen and stopping just above her skimpy panties.

“I don’t know what you’ve been doing recently with this lingerie,” he commented, “but I like it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered as she writhed against him, her hands rising to run through his hair once again as she spread her legs in invitation. “And if you don’t fucking touch me now, we’re going to come to blows.”

“Oh, we’ll definitely come to blows.”

“Smart ass.”

“Princess,” he shot back.

Without further pretense, both his hands rose to rest on her hip bones just above her thong, and his fingers wrapped around the sides of the panties, slowly dragging them down her legs and tossing them as he turned his focus back to her.

“You look good, love” he complimented her before skimming two fingers along her pubic bone, his other hand pushing her left leg further back so he could have a better look. “You look really good.”

“Killian,” she pleaded. “Touch me.”

“As you wish.” Without another word he ran a finger between her lips; smirking at the wetness he found there he pushed a finger into her, earning a gasp, then a moan from her. His other hand, which was resting on the bed, came to caress her hip, holding her to the bed and restricting her movement.

“I love how fucking hot you get for me,” he murmured to her as he stroked his singular finger in and out of her. She attempted to move her hips in time to his beat as he primed her and pushed a second finger into her easily.

She threw her head back, no longer watching him pleasure her, and moaned with abandon as he added yet another finger, increasing his pace before leaning forward, capturing her clit between his lips, licking the bundle of nerves slowly as Emma’s moans became louder from above him and more frantic as they sped forward.

His movements were frenzied, and he suddenly pulled all three fingers out of her. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked as if she was going to yell as he met her gaze and slowly, licked two of his fingers clean before offering the third to her. She cautiously took his pointer finger into her mouth and licked her juices from it, moaning at the eroticness of the moment as he held her gaze throughout, his eyes becoming more hooded.

“You want me to finish you off first, or you wanna fuck?”

The bluntness of his question made her pause before she finally answered, “Let’s fuck.”

Killian shifted from his position between her wide open legs and unceremoniously pushed his boxer briefs down from his hips to reveal his arousal to her for the first time that evening.

“So how do you want me?” she murmured beneath her breath, then her eyes suddenly lit up.

He looked in her eyes. “I want you exactly as you want me.”

Emma placed firm hands on his shoulders and pushed him into a sitting position, then straddled her knees around him and prepared to sink down onto him.

” She kissed him tenderly, loving how he made her feel with his just his words. With a small smile, she lowered her body ever-so-slowly onto his, and gasped at his size as he filled her for the first time in a week. She paused for a moment to relish in the feeling of Killian filling her to the hilt before rising up and pushing back down on him.

They found their rhythm with a practiced ease. Emma’s arms came to rest on Killian’s shoulders as his hands found their way to her waist, aiding her in rising up and down, faster and faster as they sped to their completions. Emma groaned as he picked up their pace once more, pushing his hips up against her insistently as she sank down on him time and again.

"Come on, Emma, now!"

Emma used her well-toned muscles to squeeze and release his hard shaft filling her. She joined her mouth to his, moving her body along his as the sweat between them poured along their skin, gripping him hard on his shoulders as he pumped in time with her rocking motions.

She cried out her pleasure, feeling a fluttering building in her lower belly, and she flew over the edge a moment later chanting his name. Her walls clamped down on him and brought him with her as he moaned insistently in her ear, gnawing on her lobe lightly as he continued rocking their bodies and holding her tight to his sweat-slicked chest.

“God, I needed that,” she groaned into his ear and placed a chaste kiss on his lobe. She pulled back and captured his lips with hers once again, pleased that he slipped his tongue into her mouth slowly, allowing their sensual dance to continue even as their bodies were worn out.

“I didn’t know how much I needed that until just now,” he confided. “Emma Swan, you are so beautiful.”

And despite the position they found themselves in, she blushed. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“Beautiful?” he arched an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes and let out a chortle of laughter. “Devilishly handsome,” she conceded.

“That’s right, lass,” he agreed, his lips returning to her neck once more, licking at her sweaty skin. “Give me a minute and I’ll be ready for round two.”

Groans of pleasure and completion filled the room over and over throughout the night, until exhaustion took over and they slipped into a sated sleep.

~*~

The buzz of the alarm clock was a decidedly unwelcome intrusion for people who had just dropped off to sleep four hours before. Emma reached over and slapped the snooze, snuggling closer to the pocket of warmth that was Killian.

A hard hand slapped her on the ass. "Come on, darling, rise and shine."

Emma snickered, still half asleep. "Not tonight dear, I have a headache."

"Funny, Swan. You really will have a headache if you miss the last day of tournament and Mr. Gold wins by default."

Emma reluctantly got up and pushed his piles of clothing aside, wincing slightly as she hurried to the bathroom. She and Killian had gotten just a little carried away last night.

"Oh shit!" Change that to a lot carried away.

"What's up, honey?" Emma made a face at the endearment. He had a way of saying it that made her want to laugh. Half serious, and half mocking.

"Check the mirror, sweetie."

Killian’s shout of "Bloody Hell" floated back to her. She turned back and fingered the exceedingly large hickey tucked under the curve of her jaw. Several smaller sisters and brothers dotted her neck, breasts, and stomach. There was even a small one in the crook of her arm. She distinctly remembered returning the favor several times throughout the night.

Emma finished up and hurried back into the bedroom. Yep, Killian sat staring morosely in the wall mirror, looking at his own hickeys and bites, Emma was glad Killian couldn't see the one on his ass.

Emma held up a hand. "I vote that we not fight again until we have a couple of days to recover." Emma stretched her neck. _Damn._ He got her good. This was going to take a lot of makeup to cover.

Killian took a quick shower, and lying back on the bed smiling, he watched her obsess.

_All those years ago, he’d chased her. She was the most fascinating woman he’d ever met. She was funny and exciting, there was a taste of edge to her lifestyle. She never backed down, and she kept him on his toes. Six years they’d played games, touching, but never touching. Emma Swan was forbidden to him._

_In dark alleys she would push him against the wall and kiss him breathless. Every time they met, it got more intense. What started as kisses, soon turned into full make-out sessions. They went as far as they could without crossing over to full intimacy. Until the last time. He had her. Completely. He only needed to bring her in, and it was over. That was when he’d finally stopped resisting and slept with her. They’d made love, and it cost him everything._

_He couldn’t take her in, it was a conflict of interest. Sleeping with a suspect almost ended his career. They had to let her go. A part of him wondered if she had planned that. Had sex with him to make it impossible for him to arrest her. Emma answered his doubts. She walked into custody, gave herself up. She gave up her freedom and life for him. It saved his career. She gave up her life as she knew it, for his, and they had lived with the consequences ever since._

“You ready for today?” Killian asked.

Emma’s nervousness was obvious. “Sure. No. I think…do we have any chocolate? Chocolate will make me feel better.”

Killian sighed. “I wonder if Will is feeling this nervous?”

“Who?” Emma asked.

It was official. Her brained was fried. “Swan!” Killian forced her to look at him. “Go win,” he told her confidently, then spun her around to the door and nudged her forward.

She smiled and waved on her way out the door.

~*~

There were nine finalists. At one o’clock the players entered, their seats already set with their chips from the previous day. Archie Hopper took the high card for the button and took seat one. The other players took their seats, all of them signing the felt in front of them with marker pens.

For hours and hours they played, their number dwindling slowly as player after player fell. Finally, late into the evening there was only Jon Swan and his daughter left. Mr. Gold had bowed out as gracefully as he could, his disappointment evident to all that he’d been bested by a woman. Graham Humbert lost with less grace, accusing the house of cheating on Emma’s behalf.

In the end Emma Swan took the tournament, beating her father’s queen high flush with a full house. Jon Swan stood and gave his daughter a full hug.

“Pregnant, huh?”

“Dad-”

“Did you tell him I offered you a partnership in the casino?”

“Dad-”

“Uh huh. We’ll talk about this later!” Jon kissed his daughter’s cheek, and glared at Killian on his way off the felt. Emma didn’t have a chance to react before Killian picked her up in a full hug and spun her around.

~*~

“There’s this floating game just off New Orleans. If we hurry-”

“Shut the hell up, Will. You’re back in custody until the trial. No exceptions.” Killian glared at Will Scarlett. A royal pain in his ass. He blamed his mother for his current predicament.

Killian pushed his sunglasses back on his nose. They were heading to Key West, the launch powering across the water. It was an uneventful departure from Crocodile Island, and Killian took the chance to offer Neal some sound advice before they parted. It was pretty apparent that Neal was crushing Belle’s smokes. Killian suggested that perhaps doing his father’s wife might lead to hard feelings, and was it really worth it? He left a pondering Neal at the wayside.

“But-”

Killian lost his cool. Despite winning, Emma was strangely silent. She had been that way lately. “Will, I swear… I’ll call mom! Tell her how much you lost gambling. How much you could’ve won.”

“You wouldn’t!” Will’s mouth dropped. Killian was the meanest of brothers. “And you wonder why I use mum’s maiden name!” He didn’t want anyone to know his brother was a Fed. _Humiliating_.

“Try me!” Killian had it.

“Will, trust me. He doesn’t have a poker face. He never bluffs,” Emma said softly. The launch came to the marina, and they disembarked. Will was still bitching, when David noticed a hot blonde heading their way.

Killian barely registered the blonde, until a vexing realization forced its way to the forefront of his mind. _Elsa, Graham Humbert’s fluffer!_ He reached for his gun as David tackled Will to the deck. Emma was directly in the line of fire when Elsa aimed her piece. Killian grabbed Emma and they hit the ground as Elsa opened fire. David was able to put three shots dead center into Elsa’s chest from his spot on the ground. The four watched as the would-be assassin slumped lifelessly to the wooden dock.

“Emma! Baby!”

“Well, fuck a duck!” Emma looked at her ruined silk blouse, and the blood running down her arm from a brush with the bullet. “Ouch!” She looked at Killian hitting him with her good hand. “What’s your deal? Knocking me over? I’d have got out of the way.”

“Bloody hell! You could’ve gotten yourself killed, Emma!” All the color had left Killian’s face, he couldn’t handle her laissez-faire demeanor right now. “David, make sure that bitch is down, and then duct tape Will to a chair. I’m taking Emma to the hospital.”

“I’m fine. It’s hardly a scratch!” Emma frowned at the big man, not looking so big suddenly. “Killian really. It’s nothing.” She bit back the pain that was radiating across her shoulder. He didn’t look like he could take it.

“You’re always getting into trouble.”

“Hey! Unfair! I was happily sitting at a table in Vegas. You’re the one that pulled me into a hot zone!”

Killian held her head and kissed her hard. “Emma, honey, you’re like a target for random bullets. Always have been. Always will be.”

Will cursed as David called for an ambulance and backup. “So I take it they know each other well?” Will watched his usually unflappable big brother losing it over the lady gambler.

David snorted. “You could say. They’ve been married for three years. Don’t you ever go to family dinners?”

Will scratched his neck, sheepishly. “I… I’m out of town a lot. Heard he got hitched-” It hit him suddenly. “Well, shit!” Will laughed hard. “My brother, the Fed, married Lady Cutthroat, has me for a brother, and his father-in-law is Jon Swan!” Will couldn’t stop laughing. And he thought he was embarrassed to admit that his brother was a Fed? _Damn_ , Killian always had to upstage him.

Killian drew his gun and aimed it at his pain in the ass younger brother. “Do I have to threaten to tell mum again?”

“God, put down the piece, G.” Emma said weakly. “My luck, you’ll shoot me!” Killian went back to fawning over his wife. Emma peeked up and winked at Will who smiled in return.

_Finally,_ he thought _,_ _someone on my side_.

~*~

Killian came into the cubicle behind the curtain. “The ER doc is signing you out soon. He’s waiting for a cleaner x-ray and your labs.”

“I told you I was okay.” Emma struggled to sit up, reaching for her destroyed blouse. _Dammit! That was a Prada. What a waste_.

Killian pushed her back down in the bed taking his seat in the chair next to her bed, holding her hand. “Just rest.”

“Where are Will and David?”

“David has Will at the local chapter, has him duct taped to a chair, per my instructions, especially his mouth. The idiot has the local boys in a game of stud.”

Emma smiled. Will Scarlett. Her brother-in-law. Somehow, she suspected they were going to see a whole lot more of him. She plucked at the hospital gown, it didn’t do a damn thing for her.

Killian kissed her hand. She was still pale. Still upset. He could tell. She was quiet. “So you going to tell me what’s been going on with you?”

“Nothin’ honey.”

“I thought we had a better relationship than that.”

Emma sighed and caressed a hand over his face. “We do,” she said softly.

“Then why did I find you sitting at a table in Vegas days after you were supposed to be home?”

“I was thinking. Working out the angles. You know I think better when I’m playing.”

“Uh huh,” Killian acknowledged wearily, searching her face. For nine years, there had never been another person for him. He knew from the moment he first met the nineteen-year-old lady gambler, on one of his first assignments with the FBI. He met her in person, and she became his life’s work. Nothing ever eclipsed her. Not in six years of chasing her across the United States. Not in six years of sexual frustration. And especially not after three years of wedded bliss. She was his touchstone. The one person he couldn’t and wouldn’t live without. It hurt seeing her so unhappy, and so angry with him.

“You going to tell me what you’re thinking about and why you’re mad at me?” Killian didn’t want to ask. He was afraid to hear her answer. “Is it because you regret marrying me? Giving up your life to save mine?”

Emma’s eyes softened. Something that only happen for Killian. “No.” She kissed his mouth softly. “I told you that you were worth it. In three years, I’ve never changed my mind about that. Even when you leave the toilet seat up.”

Killian kissed her fingers, her wedding ring sparkling, the band matching the one on his hand. “Then why are you mad?”

Emma sighed. “Stupid really,” she answered, stroking his cheek. “Remember how it was before you were given the desk job?”

Killian nodded. He had been a field agent, actively working cases mostly in the Boston area, but often they took him to further from home. Emma laughed and shook her head.

“Then you got the desk job, and suddenly, you were home every night. Dinners together. We’d go out, see movies, spend time with each other. You were in my bed. I liked it. Not that I didn’t like it before, because when you were off on a case, the _happy to see you, baby is home_ roll in the sheets was always great. So worth the wait.”

Killian smiled at that. He always came home with a powerful need for her. She was like an emptiness in his gut when they were apart too long. Six years of denial. He hated every moment of it, so once married, he didn’t deny himself her company. Not for a moment.

“We were getting pretty regular of late-”

“Normal,” Emma said. “That got me thinking, maybe it was time. You and me. June and Ward Cleaver. Granted, we’d never be the Ozzie and Harriet types, but still, things were looking pretty normal. For us.” Emma shrugged. “I thought maybe it was time to think about a Wally or Beav.”

Killian felt his heart stop. She wanted a baby. For real. They had talked about it when they first married, but wanted a few years alone. Killian cleared his throat. This was… he didn’t know how to respond. Whoop it up? Or concern that something had happened that made her mad at him? So he went for avoidance of the bigger issues. “You are definitely watching too much Nick at Nite.” Killian sighed when Emma’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was unhappy, and avoiding it wasn’t getting either of them anywhere. “So what happened? What made you mad at me?”

“I wasn’t. Not really.” Emma smoothed his shirt, removing imaginary wrinkles. “It was that… Dammit, G-Man. You hate the desk! I knew… I knew in here,” Emma touched her heart, “that you needed to be out in the field, and if I told you I wanted a baby, you might take the desk permanently. No matter how miserable it made you.”

“You gave up your lifestyle for me. Maybe I would want to return the favor.”

Emma snorted at his response, and a rogue tear escaped against her will.

“You don’t think I know that? You big lug!” Emma wiped the tear away angrily. “Of course you’d settle and be miserable doing it. God…” She shook her head. “I don’t want that. I don’t want your retribution.” Emma stared at her husband. So handsome. So smart. And so clueless at times. “I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I first teased you. You were that one inevitable force that would rock my planned life. I knew that. I accepted that. I love you happy, and this desk thing? It doesn’t make you happy.”

Killian leaned his forehead against hers. “I’d happily do it for you. For our children.”

Emma sniffed. “I know. Why do you think I needed to go somewhere and think it out?”

“Okay.” She was ahead of him, so he sat back a little. “Tell me what you came up with. Read me a scenario. Because despite everything, you’re not happy, Emma. You haven’t been. Not in the last three years. Not without being in the game. Don’t deny it.”

“That’s not true. I haven’t been unhappy per se. I’ve just haven’t been completely happy.”

Killian held her face, staring in her eyes. “I love you happy, too. What can I do to try to give you both worlds? Will a baby be enough of a distraction? A good payoff for all that you gave up?”

Emma shook her head. That was the rub. That was the very problem that moved her from casino to casino from Atlantic City to Vegas. She wasn’t running from him or even them. She was running from what she knew. It wasn’t enough. She missed her former life like a toothache. He was worth it, but she felt incomplete. Having a house full of children would treat the symptoms, but the underlying disease would remain.

“No. It wouldn’t be enough.”

Killian sighed. He knew that. For three years, he knew. They played a game of avoidance, but it was still there. “So you are unhappy being home, normal, and legit. I am unhappy being tied to a desk, getting to see you every night.” Killian rubbed his face. “All I know is I love you, and I don’t want to lose us. So in all this soul searching and gambling did you gain any insight?”

“Yeah, I think I found a solution.” Emma took a breath and cleared her throat. “Daddy offered me a partnership in his casino.”

Killian stared at her. “That’s in Vegas, Emma. I work out of Boston.” She couldn’t mean for them to be apart. Not that far.

“I know.” Emma stroked his cheek. “I was hoping that you’d transfer to the Las Vegas office. Of course, you might lose your cushy desk job, and be back out in the field…”

“But in the same region as you. Home almost every night.” Emma nodded at his reasoning and Killian hid a smile. “And my wife would own and run a legit casino on the Vegas strip.”

“That’s about the long and short of it.” It was a good scenario. Took her six casinos to come up with it.

“What’s in it for me?” Killian asked.

Emma smiled. He was such a player. “Well, since you ask, I take it that means you have something in mind, so I’ll let you tell me what you want.”

“A home. I don’t want to live in a casino suite.” Killian kissed her. “I’ll take those kids; raised in a real home in the suburbs, real June and Ward Cleaverish, Wallys, Beavs, and maybe toss in a Samantha or two?”

“You run a hard deal, G-Man.”

“It’s on the table, Lady G.” Then Killian went in for the high stakes. “You’ll have to learn to cook.”

Emma snorted. “There are people who need jobs. I’ve got a nice bankroll right now. I’ll hire a cook.”

“Laundry?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sweetie, who would keep the professional laundries in business if not for people like me?”

Killian smiled. “Guess we’ll be needing a nanny, too?”

Emma shook her head. “Nope. That I want to do myself.”

Killian was a smart man. He didn’t get where he was today without learning when to hold, when to fold, and when to accept a sweet deal. “Love you. You’ve got a deal.”

Before Emma could answer, the nurse came and handed them her discharge papers. She was free to leave the hospital. Killian helped her get dressed. It was nice to get away from the smell of antiseptic.

“So I wager you double or nothing that our first kid is a boy,” Emma said smugly.

“Those are fifty-fifty odds.”

“I know. I was thinking of keeping track of my temperature!”

Killian laughed. “Brat! I’m not speeding across town just because you’re ovulating. Forget it. I want my parentage to have more feelings of spontaneity.”

Emma stopped. “Are you talking premature ejaculation? They have doctors for those kinds of problems, and-”

Killian kissed her to shut her up. She was absolutely infuriating sometimes, and he only loved her more for it. Taking her hand, he went to find a taxi stand. Stopping suddenly, his eyes narrowed. “About the casino…”

“It’s a legit gambling establishment. Pays taxes and everything!”

“Your dad runs illegal high-stake games in the back, I’m certain of it.”

Emma feigned innocence. “Don’t be silly.” Sure he did. He was a Swan.

“Emma, you’re not going to run those games are you?”

Emma patted his hand. _Silly man_. “Killian, how do you feel about four kids?”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Five. Now the illegal gaming…”

Emma rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to look so hard or so close! Stop spoiling a perfectly excellent life! Jeez.” Emma threw her hands up and spotted a taxi. Raising her hand to wave it down, she looked back at her husband. “Why did I ever marry you? Still a mystery!”

Killian laughed. “I know why you married me.”

“A brain tumor.”

Killian laughed harder. Her irritated face was amusing. So they were back to playing _catch me if you can_. After a three-year break, it would be interesting to see what she did while walking around eight months pregnant. He trusted her to walk a very fine line between her two worlds. So, the lady gambler, Lady Cutthroat, and her G-Man drove off into the sunset, well, actually it was noon, and they needed to stop for lunch.

“Killian, can I hold your gun?”

“No,” Killian said exasperatedly. That was all he needed. She’d probably shoot her foot off, or worse. His. “But, I will buy you lunch.”

“I have more money than you,” Emma said smugly.

“Okay, then you can buy me lunch.”

They did live happily ever after… well, not a Cleaveresque happily ever after, but their happily ever after what with him always trying to shut down her illegal poker games, and threatening to arrest her, which he was very serious about, not having a poker face, and never bluffing. All in all, it wasn’t a bad life, in fact it was _their version_ of a perfect life.

~*~


End file.
